Apoptosis

The cell that chooses its own ending does not rupture— it folds inward, signals its own dismemberment.

A quiet protocol. The neighbors clean it up without inflammation, without scar.

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I have been thinking about the deaths that look like nothing, the ones that leave no wreckage, no raised tissue at the site.

The body has a name for this. It calls it programmed. As if intention were the same as grace.